Singing Poltergeists
by Flibber T. Gibbet
Summary: [Oh Potter, you rotter, what have you done, you're killing off students, you think it's good fun] Peeves is smarter than he appears, or maybe he just has a knack of predicting the future where Harry is concerned...


Singing Poltergeists

Flibber T. Gibbet

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor am I making any money off of this...

Warnings: slash, a horrible mutilating of J. K. Rowling's characters (commonly known as OOCness), and the ever present bad writing

Notes: I am finally returning to my roots and posting a fic for my very first fandom, Harry Potter... I've abandoned you, dear Harry, and I hope you will accept this as my humble apology.

::climbs up a really tall building and sings "Happy Birthday" into a megaphone::

Happy 20th birthday, **Kaikouken**! I present you with this crappy fic with my customary insanely huge amount of love! This is a thank you for the help you've given me with life and for loving me and for being my seme, even though you are far too good for me! Lovelovelove!

This is an early birthday present, and I really hope she doesn't mind, but I wanted to post this before I got Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (make this my homage to the series) and I could have written another Naruto fic for her, but she's really the one who inspired me to write a Harry Potter fic so... she gets an early birthday present!

And kudos to all who are going to the bookstore at midnight to get THE book of all time! Hell, kudos to everyone who is excited about the final book! This is definitely one of the best series of all time!

If you've read this far, guess what? The fic actually starts soon! So read and hopefully enjoy! Everything in _italics_ is something Peeves has sung.

o0oOo0o

Harry Potter was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of death. Tired of life.

He leaned against a gravestone, bending his lanky frame in an awkward crouch to be hidden behind the speckled stone, hoping for a moment of respite from everything, anything.

Taking a deep breath, he ran back into the fray, careful to stay on the fringe of the main action. It wasn't his time yet. A green burst of light raced towards him and he repelled it back to the Death Eater who cast it. The Death Eater crumpled, its mask falling and bouncing off of the base of a statue of a unicorn. A girl with dark braids and golden skin glared at him with murderous contempt in her glassy blue eyes.

_Sally-Anne Perks_, his mind supplied. A Ravenclaw in his year. Dead before graduating from Hogwarts. Murdered by a classmate. His second year suddenly came back to him, the time he had seen Justin Finch Fletchley petrified and Nearly Headless Nick killed again, if that was even possible, by the basilisk. Peeves had made up an impromptu song. How did it go again? Running across the graveyard of Godric's Hollow, the words came back to him and he laughed cynically at their aptness as he mouthed the words of so long ago.

o0oOo0o

_Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh what have you done_

_You're killing off students, you think it's good fun_

o0oOo0o

McGonagall had cut the poltergeist off before he could continue. She had been one of the first to die. He remembered the arch of her back as she fell –_through the curtain, just like Sirius_- Bellatrix Lestrange smirking over her latest victim. Hermione was the one who had avenged their professor's death.

A Stunning Spell heated the air below his left ear as he swerved at the last moment. This wasn't the time to be reminiscing. He could do that when either he or Voldemort were dead. "Neville," he cried. The pudgy boy with whom he had shared a dorm for six and a half years was aiming a wand at his Harry's chest, poised to kill. He had never been able to completely throw off the Imperius Curse. His eyes begged Harry for forgiveness and death. His thread of free will pleaded for freedom in death. A focused burst of green light blended with the others being cast.

o0oOo0o

_Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh what have you done_

_You're killing off students, you think it's good fun_

o0oOo0o

Harry would have liked to give Neville a proper apology but couldn't think of the words to say.

"Merlin, Potter, you'd think the savior of the Wizarding world would have some sort of protection. Or at least that he wouldn't be wandering around looking like a lost puppy. This is a war, Potter. Crucio!" Harry drew in a sharp breath and doubled over, straining to mouth the words of a curse.

"Avada Kedavra," he choked out. The black robes absorbed the light and the pain ended abruptly. The Death Eater crumpled like so many others had on both sides. He had uttered those two words countless times in this graveyard, the site of the long awaited final battle. Those two words and not much else. What else was there? _Rictumsempra?_ He thought not. The Unforgivable Curses escaped his lips many times as did the Half Blood Prince's Sectumsempra, the reason for all the blood staining his _This is a war, Potter._ And there was no room for mercy.

A centaur galloped towards him and he stumbled back. But the pale skinned, dark haired creature ran past him, giving him a withering glare. Another person who thought he was not doing enough for the Light. Harry sighed and was ready to do his part with renewed vigor when he heard a curious soft thud. He saw the corpse of the last Death Eater who had put the Cruciatus Curse on him fall back to the ground after being kicked up by the relentless hooves of the centaur. As the body hit the grassy earth, the mask fell off and revealed yet another classmate, dead by his hand. Pansy Parkinson.

o0oOo0o

_Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh what have you done_

_You're killing off students, you think it's good fun_

o0oOo0o

Light footsteps came up behind him with a distinctive, familiar magical signature. "No, Potter, you aren't going to do this to yourself. You aren't _allowed_ to mope, to worry, to regret what you've done. I've invested too much in you." The words ghosted against the back of his neck and Harry had to hide a small grin; Malfoy had his own way of doing things.His method of cheering Harry up was surprisingly efficient for such unorthodox tactics.

"I'm only seventeen." An old bitterness laced his words.

"Most of us are. You've known about this ever since your first year. Your entire life was just foreplay for this moment. This is why you are the hero of the magical world," replied Malfoy, his words sympathetic yet chiding. Harry was their only hope for peace, Potter was his only chance for revenge. Nine months ago, the Order had found the corpse of one Narcissa Malfoy and with her was a young man furiously determined to do anything to destroy his mother's murderer.

"Is that your idea of a pep talk?"

"For something I made up on the spot, I think it's rather good..."

Harry turned around and examined the slightly taller man. It was a peculiar experience, ignoring the blood soaking his clothes and the screams echoing around them, and just taking the time to _look_ at something. Draco had the same unshakeable air of sophistication but it was tinged with the same tiredness Harry felt and probably showed. Silvery hair was charmed to stay out of intense grey eyes. Harry always felt more at ease in Malfoy's presence, even when they were in the middle of a war. His moment of serenity crashed into reality when Malfoy straightened and spoke.

"Sir, I have the reports from the Order."

There was no more teasing, no more sympathy, no more comforting, no more camaraderie. This was a soldier -_and that was all they really were, wasn't it_?- reporting to his commanding officer. But Harry took it in stride and nodded. This _was_ a war, after all.

Malfoy spoke rapidly of everything that happened since the fight had broken out, mentioning heroic deeds performed by classmates, revealing strengths and weaknesses in their defense, glossing over the names of comrades never to be seen again alive. All of this information Harry absorbed with little emotion, but when Malfoy addressed the matter of how many Death Eaters had been killed, he gave the words an extra caress that troubled Harry... He hated the fact that death could be enjoyed by anyone but he was, by no means, in any room to talk. Had he not himself felt a slight thrill at the death of Bellatrix Lestrange? And the people he had murdered with mere words... It was either them or him, and he chose himself.

And to take his mind off of that and to stop Malfoy from continuing and mostly because that might be the last time, he leaned up and pressed his lips against Malfoy's –_Draco's_- fiercely. The blonde froze but recovered instantaneously, wrapping his arms tightly around the slightly shorter wizard, kissing back fiercely, trying to convey to Harry all the fear, anxiety, worry, faith, trust, _love_ he felt through this one kiss.

Not even seconds later, a bright green light flashed in the midst of the battle, they heard shrieks of pure terror, screams of unadulterated agony, and they held onto each other even tighter, not letting their lips part, memorizing the taste, feel, scent of the other.

"Don't die, Harry, don't die," Draco murmured against Harry's lips, instinctively knowing that this could be the last time he saw him, the Bow Who Lived, the Chosen One, his Harry.

"I'll see what I can do." This was the end, the grand finale.

Save the Wizarding world or let it fall to evil.

Kill or be killed.

Be with Draco again or let the Slytherin live the rest of his life alone.

He knew which option he would choose, but this was slightly more complicated than just choosing how he wanted the war to end. A damn sight more complicated.

And wasn't Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, a former student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?

o0oOo0o

_Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh what have you done_

_You're killing off students, you think it's good fun_

o0oOo0o

_Oh, most think he's barking, the Potty wee lad,_

_But some are more kindly and think he's just sad,_

_But Peevesy knows better and says that he's mad_

o0oOo0o

Man, I really mutilated this story.

I think I made the characters OOC for a battle setting... Harry seems too contemplative to be in the middle of the final battle... I'm not very good with action, so forgive me if I made you cringe with the few little fights I put in... And if you think I didn't put enough, I'm sorry too!

I remember reading all of Peeves' songs when I was rereading the the series and they all had this... disturbing quality to them... The song I repeated was found in the second book and the last one, in the fifth book... They seemed so true, so I made a fic about them!

Well, if you think this deserves a review, then please do so... I'd really like feedback on my first Harry Potter fic...

And ZOMG... I only have six hours and eighteen minutes left until I can get my grimy little hands on Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows! **_I cried so frickin' much reading the book... And even though the epilogue seemed out of place with the rest of the book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is most definitely the best book of the series, and my favorite book of all time._**

_**But now it's over... And I feel so empty inside, like something has broken inside of me and can't be fixed... Isn't it insane that we can care so passionately about books and characters? **_

****

Hope you liked this, **Kaikouken**... Really, really hope you liked this...

her uke-chan

ftg.


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